The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 250

Chapter 250: The Bloodline Talent of the People from the Old Region

"Hmph, what an ill-mannered woman!"

Queen Marie Antoinette slammed her silver spoon onto the table, chewing furiously on her cherry frosted cake. Even her favorite dessert no longer tasted sweet.

Her good mood from chatting with the Duke of Artois at noon had completely dissipated after a visit from Madame Adelaide.

The queen muttered angrily under her breath:
"Hmph! That old spinster of a princess, what right does she have to meddle in the governance of France?"

Indeed, Madame Adelaide was one of the people she disliked the most in the Palace of Versailles. When Queen Marie first arrived at Versailles as a young bride, Adelaide had sought to manipulate her into scheming against Madame du Barry. The memory still left her feeling uncomfortable.

In fact, Joseph was well aware that Madame Adelaide was the first to secretly refer to the queen as the "Austrian whore."

With her as the divine ally of the old nobility, any efforts by the Duke of Artois to oppose the abolition of noble privileges were effectively neutralized.

...

Provence Province
Nice

A middle-aged man, dressed in a black short coat and gray cotton breeches, stood atop a fishmonger’s cart. Waving his hands, he shouted angrily:
"Who has taken away the reserve grain prepared for us by His Majesty the King? It’s because that grain is missing that the price of bread in the city has more than doubled!

"What are those heartless scoundrels up to?

"Do they want to murder us?"

The grain shortage, though recent, had already taken many lives. Many in the crowd, who had lost loved ones or friends during that time, paused and frowned, listening intently to his words.

The man continued:
"Perhaps you’ve all seen the reports.

"Yes, those names on the playing cards—Duke of Mouchy, Count of Sérurier, Duke of Durfort, and Duke of Mouchy again—they are the ones! They used despicable means to steal the grain from the warehouses, watching as we starved to death!"

This speaker had been arranged in Nice by Count Mirabeau.

Joseph had deliberately refrained from exposing Count Morneau’s unauthorized orders that disrupted the grain reserves. Nor had he arrested Morneau, choosing instead to shift the blame to more significant targets.

Moreover, news from Paris suggested that unrest in the southern provinces had not yet fully subsided—because Joseph needed the unrest to persist. He needed a directed "riot."

As for evidence of the "frame-up"? It wasn’t necessary at all.

The people only needed a target for their anger. They didn’t care about evidence. If the members of the Assembly of Notables wanted to defend themselves, they were free to visit each province in the south. Given the slow pace of information dissemination, it would take them at least half a year to explain the truth to everyone—assuming they even had evidence of their innocence, which they didn’t.

This was the advantage of controlling public opinion. The same aristocrats, led by the Duke of Orléans, who had wielded public opinion as a weapon to smear the royal family, were now tasting the bitterness of such a weapon turned against them.

Joseph knew he couldn’t bring down so many aristocrats all at once. Even someone as prominent as the Duke of Mouchy was difficult to topple.

But this was France.

What was the most powerful weapon here?
Undoubtedly, street riots and mass protests by citizens! The innate bloodline talent of the people from the old regions was no joke—it was a terrifying beast capable of devouring even kings!

By deploying this formidable weapon, aristocrats like the Duke of Mouchy and the Duke of Durfort would be as fragile as paper.

Even top-tier nobles like the Duke of Orléans could be torn apart with ease!

Of course, Joseph was well aware of the catastrophic backlash this weapon could unleash if left unchecked.

Thus, from the outset, he had focused on directing the "beast's" gaze within a limited range, ensuring that those leading it were all his own people.

He had even prepared scapegoats for the aftermath, ensuring that the "beast" could vanish immediately once its target was neutralized.

...

The gathered citizens whispered among themselves:
"What is this ‘playing card’ he mentioned?"

A young man quickly pulled a booklet from his pocket, flipping to the first page:
"Ah? Don’t you know? Look, it’s this!"

The crowd leaned in to see a deck of illustrated playing cards, each card featuring a simple portrait and a name underneath.

The first card was the Duke of Mouchy, followed by the Count of Sérurier...

A full deck of 52 cards targeted the leaders of the Assembly of Notables.

Joseph had organized it this way to channel public outrage as precisely as possible. Once everyone depicted on the cards was dealt with, the protesters would naturally disperse due to the lack of a remaining target.

In hindsight, the "trickery" invented by future Americans was proving to be extraordinarily effective.

An elderly man among the crowd pointed at the booklet and shouted at the speaker:
"Is it really them who took the reserve grain?"

"It’s them!" the speaker declared, clenching his fists. "They stole the grain and hoarded it in their manors!"

Another person raised a question:
"But why would they do that?"

"Money, it’s all for money!" The speaker pointed eastward. "By stealing the grain, they created a shortage, causing the price of bread in the city to skyrocket. Then they sold the grain they hoarded at exorbitant prices, easily doubling their profits!

"Your life, my life, and the lives of all the poor—they’ve all been turned into jingling coins in their hands!"

The elderly man, recalling his wife who had died of hunger, was overcome with tears. Gritting his teeth, he said:

"Those bastards deserve to burn in hell! I—I will have my revenge on them!"

Many others in the crowd, remembering their lost loved ones, began to shout angrily:

"Hang those devils!"
"Let’s take revenge on them!"
"Make them pay the price!"

The speaker, standing atop the cart, was taken aback by how smoothly things had progressed. He had prepared nearly an hour’s worth of speech, but it seemed entirely unnecessary now.

He raised his arm decisively, pointing toward the manor of the Duke of Durfort:
"Let’s go! Let’s settle the score with that devil!"

Not far away, secret police agents signaled to a scar-faced man nearby.

The scar-faced man smiled knowingly, leading a group of over twenty accomplices to the front of the crowd and shouting:
"I know the way! Follow me, everyone!"

Driven by a herd mentality, hundreds of people followed him. Along the way, other speakers rallied more citizens, quickly forming a swelling tide of over a thousand.

The original speaker, after taking a water bottle handed to him by a companion, prepared to head to the next location to incite another crowd.

Meanwhile, a few police officers stationed farther away had already been "advised" by secret police and chose not to interfere.

By 3 p.m., the surging crowd surrounded the manor of the Duke of Durfort.

The manor guards trembled as they pointed their guns at the angry citizens. The butler nervously stepped out, opening the door to negotiate with the scar-faced man at the forefront.

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